Category Archives: Opinion

The Sexual Freedom of Women

images2Diana May-Waldman– WWH-

Growing up, I was never taught to celebrate my sexual freedom. I was taught that sex was bad, only men liked it and not only did it hurt, but you risked getting pregnant. And if you had sex before marriage then you were damaged goods.

When I was in second grade I blurted out at the dinner table that my best friends sister started her period and I wanted to know what that meant. My mother said she would tell me after dinner. She took me out to the backyard and began to whisper.

“A period is a thing that comes once every 28 days. When you get a little older you will get one. Every 28 days women bleed,” she said.

I started to think about the time my brother threw a tin can and it hit me in the back of my head. It bled and I needed six stitches to close the wound. I didn’t want to bleed every 28 days. No, this wasn’t an option for me.

“So, do I have to get stitches every month?” I asked.

“No, it’s not like that,” she said, “You bleed from down there.”

“Down where?”

“From the same place a baby comes out of,” she said.

“My belly button?”

“No, from your coochie.”

I felt panicked and started to cry. There was no way this way going to be an option for me and now she is telling me that babies come from where I pee? That had to be impossible. Now I had to ask the logical question. Continue reading The Sexual Freedom of Women

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Why I’m a poet?

Mikel K
Mikel K

By Mikel K

I’m a poet because I don’t qualify for any other job. It sucks that this one doesn’t pay me anything, but I am passionate about it. A poet is the only thing that I’ve ever wanted to be. I like cottage cheese on my salad and I eat my turkey burgers with mayo and onion; no ketchup. I don’t know if that is a typical poetic diet. I like eggs also, mainly scrambled these days, and sometimes scrambled with tomatoes and onions and always with charp cheddar cheese.

Can you believe the price of eggs? The lady checking us out at the grocery store, the other day told us to check out organic eggs, that they are now cheaper than regular eggs that have become so expensive because of some disease that millions of chickens had to be killed because of. Someone said to get chickens and put them in your backyard.

Chickens are illegal here in Mableton, Georgia and marijuana but you can get drunk as hell on Jack Daniels and fire your gun in the air; technically, yes you could get arrested for that, too, unless you live in the country. I guess you could kill chickens with your gun, too, but then you won’t get no eggs.

Anyway, back to being a poet. I must love abuse, which is what getting rejected from almost every publication that I have submitted to feels like. Gosh darn it; I feel like I have said enough about being a poet. Let me now show you some poems:

Your Beauty

Your beauty

is so great

it defies

words on a

piece of paper.

A pen cannot

capture

what my eyes

have seen.

To Show Me The Stars

There is nothing to calm

the fear of the day

full of creditors

who can t be satisfied

dunning letters that can t

be replied to

 

except for…

 

a walk in the dark

to the store for ice cream

with a dog happy to see me

and a daughter who brings

a flashlight

to show me the stars.

Art Opening

Each time he rides his bike away,

he gets further down the street.

“Can I go see the twins?” he asks,

and he’s off again.

“Can I knock on their door?” he asks.

I say, “no,” and explain that I’ll have to

leave soon, and that he won’t be able to

ride his bike much longer.

He’s seven and as he rides away this time,

I realize that, one day, he may be

riding away to college or to a job

and that I won’t see him everyday,

and I think, well, maybe, I don’t have to

get to that art opening on time.

Everbody Works at Walmart

Everybody
works at Walmart
and they drink
Coca Colas
while watching
American Idol.

 

 

 

And just think how beautiful things will be

 

He’ll bring you flowers, in the afternoon,
and you’ll fix him tea,
and just think how beautiful things will be.

You’ll wake with a smile, in the morning,
and he will whisper in your ear what he dreamed,
and just think how beautiful things will be.

You’ll cook him dinner,
and he will cook you breakfast,
and just think how beautiful things will be.

You’ll tell him about your past,
and he’ll tell you about your future.

 

Mikel K
You’ll both enjoy
the present, together,
and just think how beautiful things will be.

He won’t strangle your observations,
and you won’t offer limits to his fascination
for you, and just think how beautiful things will be.

You will be free to grow,
he will always know
that you love him.
He will love you forever,
and just think how beautiful things will be.

You will find women’s clothes
covered in blood in the closet,
and you will realize that he is the serial killer
 
that the police have been looking for.

And just think.